


A second-place life

by not_over_wise



Category: Secret History - Donna Tartt
Genre: Classics, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-13
Updated: 2020-11-13
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:02:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27546529
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/not_over_wise/pseuds/not_over_wise
Summary: Yet another reason to dislike Richard Papen: the most embarrassing editorial oversight I've seen in a published work.But in this non-canonical scene, it makes his life turn out better, I guess?
Comments: 2
Kudos: 11





	A second-place life

“Argentina,” I said, “The land of gold. Chemical element A-R. El Dorado.”

It was ten o’clock p.m. at the lake house, and after two bottles of Champagne, I was in the mood for declamations.

The languorous arpeggios that Charles had been coaxing from the piano came to a sudden stop. Camilla covered her mouth with her hand.

Henry spoke without looking up from his book. “How are you still a Classics major?”

“What?” I said.

“I know your linguistic training has been unorthodox, but this is absurd. Really, ‘argentum’ meaning gold. And don’t try to interrupt, claiming that you only started Latin last year—the Indo-European root should be obvious to you, as a Greek scholar. Surely you recognize the connection between _argés_ and the pale shine of silver?”

I stared at him, bewildered, and turned to Francis, whom I expected to come to my defense.

He wouldn’t meet my eyes. “I don’t know what we were thinking, inviting you here. I had briefly entertained the idea… but no, it’s clear enough that you’re better suited for the conventional, on-campus life. The common herd. The _hoi polloí_ , and yes, I know that’s two articles, but standard English so demands.”

Henry spoke again. “I think you should go. Camilla, call him a cab.”

Somehow my books and clothes were collected and bundled up, and I found myself being driven back to town, without another word. And that was how I dropped my major and joined Hampden College’s cohort of pre-meds.

Now, in the final year of my residency at UC San Diego, do I regret the path my life has taken? Do I wistfully imagine what it would have been like to spend the fading years of my youth among characters lifted from a period drama? Not in the slightest. And besides, those fools are dead.


End file.
